


Monday: Masturbation

by Dara999



Series: Wilsin Week 2019 [1]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Smut, Wilsin Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 01:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dara999/pseuds/Dara999
Summary: Wilson can't hold himself back any longer.





	Monday: Masturbation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a week late with this, please bare with me.
> 
> Updated AN:  
> I'm doing commissions if you're interested! [Click here for the commission form](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScbyVrq8DoqrGkjl-wHxQJIDHXAmbDkSi9wA-rmNGoe_NXBcA/viewform?usp=sf_link)   
> Writing prompts are also [open](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdpsAr0c89sElqmJl0K_5tkHaoq7F2MHAhXzl-kNljIt56V9w/viewform?usp=sf_link)

It had been a long time since Wilson found himself unable to focus on his day to day tasks due to… carnal desires.

He was in his 30’s. The hormonal imbalance due to lack of relief was not unknown to him. But, he could usually hold it off, especially in the wilderness where every spare second was spent preparing for the next attack.

Alas there he was, hunched over his desk, staring at the same two pieces of junk for Darwin knows how long. Images of dark locks and rosy cheeks fluttered into his mind. He’d saved Wes from Maxwell’s door and they were soon like two peas in a pod. Wilson worked better in silence and Wes couldn’t talk. A match made by fate, if he were to believe in such silly things. But it wasn’t only that, no. His smile was the most genuine he’d seen in years, his gestures were so full of energy and the mime was constantly looking after the scientist.

Egads! He’d just do it! It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, just a natural desire, right?

The scientist made a b-line for his tent. The quicker he got this over and done with, the quicker he could focus again. Taking a seat amongst the fur coats he used as bed sheets, Wilson swiftly undid his fly and released the organ that was begging for his attention. It was already mildly firm; guilty images of white, black and red only making it more so.

Wilson allowed his eyes to roll back as he gripped himself gently and began to pump. Friction against skin, images of black lips and hair, light pants filling the air of the tent. Throwing himself back into the plush furs, Wilson took a firm fistful of his own hair. The building pressure was like a current of electricity running through his entire body.

Wet, warm precum began to flow into his fingers as he teased to sensitive head of his member. It was almost too much, so the scientist opted to going back down his shaft.

Back and forth… speed increasing ever so slightly with every thrust, occasionally hitting the sweet spot. With his heart pounding in his ears, he did his best to smother any noise. He didn’t realise how loud his moans were becoming as he imagined lips against his own, shared warm breath, a foreign hand instead of his own. A hitched cry came from Wilson as he spilled onto his hands.

It had been so long… A weight had been lifted off his mind, replaced by the static feeling of a radio. Clarity. Nothingness. And yet… the image of Wes laying beside him still occupied his mind. The raw desires were done with. Finished. Fulfilled It was nothing more than that… (Right?) Why was he still thinking of him?

One hand still gently caressing the sensitive flesh, Wilson brought a knuckle to his mouth. He wanted to be touched… _needed_ to be touched… A wave of guilt came over him. He shouldn’t be thinking of Wes like that! It was highly inappropriate! Ungentlemanly! He needed to get back to work, never think of this again. After he cleaned up at the ponds…

As Wilson left his tent, Wes watched. He shouldn’t have been listening… It was wrong to invade someone’s privacy and trust like that… but it just sounded so… nice. He couldn’t make a sound, yet Wilson sung out and moaned loud enough for the both of them. He wanted to be a part of it, no, _needed_ to be a part of it.


End file.
